On a Bed of Moss in a House of Willows
by lillelouis
Summary: Peter makes an attempt to bridge the gap. Edmund fidgtes - set before Granite Girl, right after Jadis' apperance in the movie which makes it movie-verse *hides from chucked projectiles* sorry.
1. Chapter 1

Prompt: "If you ever feel so inclined, I'd love to see a fic (or chapter) about the two brothers' reconciliation."

AN: _I received a request for a reconciliation between the brothers, which I at first figured would follow The Granite Girl, but now I'm thinking it might actually not. Or, well…it didn't turn out the way I planned_. _This picks up right after Jadis' cameo in the movie-verse. Completed in three chapter (so far).  
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><p><span>On a Bed of Moss in a House of Willows<span>

Now

He couldn't breathe. It felt like something was pushing its way through his chest, and the sensation left him wanting to run from the How. Run all the way back to England and keep running until he felt safe again.

It would never happen, he realized. Rationally he knew, She would never return in any form as formidable as the one she'd once possessed. But She wasn't _gone_. She would never be gone for as long as Narnia or Edmund lived. She would stay in the shadows on most days or nights, but every once in a while he would be confronted with her again. He understood now. He had been saved without costing the lives of any Narnian, but he would never shed whatever She had put in him. He would never be completely free of her, and the thought tainted him somehow.

"Edmund?"

He recognized Susan's voice instantly, and moved blindly forward. He didn't want to see her, or any of them. He just wanted a few minutes of _peace_, could they not just give him _that_. His breath was evening, and would stay so until he allowed otherwise. Temporary control was enough.

He'd given them everything since coming here, he'd tried to be a better version of himself, and remain a sliver of the king he once was, but it was coming apart. Just for one moment in time he wanted them all to leave him the _bloody hell alone_! Give him a second to fall apart and put himself back together without worrying anyone. His hands were shaking and it felt difficult to breathe, but he wasn't panting. Still not panting.

They should've been grateful he didn't throw it in their faces, and just _leave_ him alone.

But to be alone he needed to escape outside. Inside the How there were Narnians everywhere he turned. He needed out, and the thought became an obsession.

He could do this, keep it all inside and packaged away neatly until he had a moment to himself. He just needed to feel fresh air on his face and know that he was allowed this one transgression. That it was not his fault Jadis would never truly leave. That it wasn't all because of him. That he didn't cause the grimaces of disgust he sometimes saw on Peter's face. That he wasn't the reason Susan sometimes looked so lost and alone. That he could fix Lucy's hope and return it to what it had once been.

He just needed someone who could tell him it was never because of him all this horrible madness had been allowed to flourish. That it wouldn't've mattered whether or not Jadis had found him in that forest when he was still _so_ young.

He had made it past the outer wall and took a quick turn, subconsciously in a south-western direction. As far into the middle of a big, wild forest as he could get.

He realized where precisely he wanted to go and so changed direction, veering towards an old river. What had once been a spillway of the Fords of Beruna, but was now little more than a slight hollow in the woodland hills. It had once joined two magnificent rivers, merging their violence in the calmest of ways, and he had admired that about the River gods and goddesses that had controlled it.

His feet knew the way even if his eyes didn't recognize anything to guide him. He missed his old landmarks. Missed being able to look out across any stretch of land and know which direction he was looking in. Always knowing which direction was home.

He had followed that river both out and back more times than he could remember, and the thought of it having dried up made him infinitely sad.

He walked across boulders, half buried in the forest floor, and realized he was close. River sediment. That little river had carried rocks from Beruna towards Glasswater for almost a thousand years before he came there, and somehow it always managed to grind down the edges or the rocks in its current along the way.

His breaths were even deeper now and his fingers were tingling.

He suspected the river had been a secret favorite of theirs, the river goddesses. They had sometimes withheld it in summer or winter, only for it to bubble to life again in spring. Giggling as the first sprays filled the riverbed. There had been merriment by that river.

His feet touched rubble, buried amongst layers of fallen leaves and mulch. But there beneath his feet as it had always been. He remembered the lovely river goddesses in their billowing gowns, as they made a ceremony of allowing the river to spring forth every year. Echoes of laughter.

Something lodged in his throat and he felt like he was still running. He kneeled as his hand automatically sought out his chest. He felt his heart thumping like it was still trying to escape, and the thought made him weep. A long solitary sob that sounded ever so pathetic in the majestic forest all around him, but he couldn't help it any more than a tree could stop growing. So he kneeled, allowed his knees to sink into the ancient riverbed, and his one hand to grasp lumps of the ground to keep him sane.

He was lost in time.

He was back when it all started, and _dear god_, Aslan had given his life for him! It felt like someone was rifling around his stomach. Like an unwanted touch that he'd been too simpering to fend off, but now he felt it. _Now_ it mattered whether or not it infected him ever again. Every single creature back at the How mattered. From Mouse to Giant.

He held his breath until he couldn't, and did it again and again until it became easier to think. He opened his eyes, and found he had to blink a couple times to see clearly, but the ache in his chest was dulling. It was retracting into itself like before. Into something he could manage.

He drew anther deep breath, all the way to the bottom of his stomach, hand above his navel just to make sure it wasn't just his imagination. And he released it. He did it again with closed eyes, and did it a third time through his nose, smelling everything around him as he did.

Feeling the way his fingers were clamped into the ground, and now dirt was creeping under his fingernails. Clotting dark new moons at the tip of each finger, and getting into creases of surprisingly weathered hands.

He ripped the clumps free and brought them up to his face, sank his nose into the dirt and breathed deep.

It was alright. Jadis was there watching, but she wouldn't come forth for a while yet. He would see her in his dreams tonight, he knew, but it was alright. It was normal, and combined with once again being back in his country it was damn near soothing. He breathed deep the smell of soil again. It was alright. Everything would be alright.

His eyes closed and in an instant he felt tired beyond belief. It was then he looked up and realized, with a stirring of worry, that he wasn't as alone as he'd thought. Someone was smoothly walking through the forest, unbelievably quiet for their enemy's usual clumping manner.

It was then he realized it probably wasn't. Unusual manners, that is.

He huffed a grin when a flash of red peaked out behind a bush only to vanish again. Quiet footfalls walked a calm perimeter around his forgotten riverbed. Whoever was there was Narnian. He decided to never acknowledge the guilt over his near collapse, but to rather ignore it as he had done in the past. It wouldn't matter what happened in his solitude, only what he chose to do after once he was back in public. Only actions, never reactions.

He stood and hobbled slightly from a wobble in his right knee. It was acting up after he'd kneeled on a buried rock just beneath the ground, but the pain was surprisingly refreshing.

He looked around for signs of other watchers, but saw nothing. It soothed him to know there was one friend who hadn't missed his departure, and decided not to involve anyone else. He admired that kind of strength in action.

Action had always been Peter's forte. Edmund's had been reason, at least until they came back and everything was undone, but he wasn't thinking of it now. He would stow all doubts away until later when he could indulge in them all without consequence, or fear of anyone overhearing.

Once they returned to England, he realized. The idea was quite new, but he recognized instantly the truth of it. They _would_ return home, but this would not be the last time either of them saw Narnia again. The thought returned whatever melancholy had been chased by panic.

It felt quite pleasant to return to that stage of morose control, and he recognized it for the blessing it was. His feet carried him back with intermittent crunches of soft leaf, or twig, to alert him of his friendly follower.

He was not built, like Peter or Lucy, to handle grand emotions on a near constant level. He was made for quiet contemplation and reasoning, much like Susan.

Their two siblings had always handled their emotions with far more grace than anyone would've imagined, he remembered back to when Lucy was brand new and he himself was still a little one in a world of giants. Lucy had always managed to turn a frown upside down, and Peter had always drawn his focus from violent emotional upheavals.

Edmund just felt unsettled. He would always feel unsettled when emotions went beyond his control.

His escort moved closer as the ferns gave way to tall pines and willow trees. A pair of broad shoulders flashed between the greens, and a peek of golden hair.

Too tall to be an Animal, too short to be a Centaur, Edmund concluded easily enough who it might be. For some reason he didn't feel bothered when his brother's footsteps haunted the perimeter of his hearing, and Peter followed him a little while through the forest.

Edmund could see the How and felt himself settling back into the poise and calm he'd possessed since arriving, even trying on a little smile he hoped would soothe the nerves of their Faun watchmen.

He never made it that far.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Then

It had been two days since the raid on Miraz's castle, and things had never even had a chance to return to a state of calm before it was all ripped away again. Jadis had almost returned, partly because of a Werewulf, a Hag, and Caspian and Peter. Susan had given them both a disappointed glance before she'd snuck off. Caspian had then fled, and Peter had watched him go before he seemed to realize there were other people in the room. Edmund had slumped to the floor in a corner, near the very dead Werewulf, and was staring into blank space.

Both her brothers had seemed so lost that Lucy had instantly felt sorry for them, and she was quickly starting to realize the extent to which this was all tied around the four of them. Everything that was happening was leading to another step up a ladder, and so on and so forth. It seemed every accident, and every poor decision was pushing the Narnians as a whole, forwards to something yet unknown. And it seemed as though she, Peter, Edmund, and Susan were the catalysts.

After a few moments of trying to console Peter, who'd seemingly shut down, she got up and walked to find Susan who had stopped outside the How, and was staring into a giant, golden sun. It was rising into the latter half of a beautiful day. Lucy's hand on her arm brought Susan's sorrowful eyes swinging around to meet hers. Two Great Cats had followed the Gentle Queen outside without a sound, and were waiting calmly for her in the bright light. Blinking against the brightness.

"Are you alright?"

Susan didn't answer or move except to place a hand over Lucy's on her arm, and after a few minutes excuse herself, preferring a higher perch, and presumably silence. The Great Cats followed their Gentle Queen, the one among the siblings who ran so far deeper than the calm surface of her ice-lake eyes. Or so Lucy thought. She knew her sister well, well enough to respect her need for a moment of calm. She knew Susan was hiding all manner of impulses and adventures, and Lucy had long ago come to treasure their rarity.

When Susan found a perch and settled down, Lucy returned to the Stone Table, and found both of her brothers inside with Glenstorm and Reepicheep keeping at the doorway.

As dark and dusty as the rest of this place it still had an earthy smell of home, and the scent of wild wheat she brought with her inside was like a balm.

Peter was still sitting in front of the carving, staring at it in a trance. Trumpkin, and Trufflehunter were sitting along the entrance, near Glenstorm and Reepicheep, with their eyes downturned. All of them gaging the air of the room without causing a disturbance to the two kings.

Both her brothers looked like lost children, and she felt a stab of resentment. They didn't have time for self-pity, not when an army thrice their size was heading straight for them, and when each one of them was responsible for every step along the path they'd already taken. She wondered what Susan would do in her situation, because beneath the proper manners of young Miss Susan Pevensie was the finely honed instinct of a leader. And yet Lucy was now the one temporarily leading.

Lucy would have to navigate a line out of melancholy for her brothers without being callous. She knew from experience that Peter often found wisdom from her words, for whatever reason. She knew Edmund would follow his brother, even out of sadness, but remembered how easy it had become to be selective of her memories of Narnia whilst in England. It was so terribly difficult to be selective now that they were once again right in the middle of Narnia. Presented with every aspect of Her, good _and_ bad.

She sighed and snuck into the room, heading for the Table. Trumpkin, and Trufflehunter kept wary eyes on her, and Reepicheep and Glenstorm glanced back as she made her progress. None of them spoke.

She supposed each one of them had already attempted to speak to the kings once and been shut down. She looked at Edmund, _or met with silence_, she thought.

Peter turned to her as if in a daze when she sat next to him. "Lucy?" His voice sounded terrible, but she couldn't help the small smile.

"Peter," she said easily and without intention. Her voice sounded like a little chirp compared to her older brother's.

He looked at her with dark, wet eyes. Eyes that melted away the last of Lucy's resentment, and replaced it with a clear purpose. "We need to get Edmund," she whispered, looking up at her brother.

He frowned at her, and turned to look for his brother. After his eyes glided past the four Narnians, they finally landed on Edmund's. It looked to Lucy as though Peter's heart broke when he saw him, staring blindly at the floor. She saw a flash of horrible guilt, _oh Aslan_.

"Edmund?" he whispered.

She nudged him very slightly. "Go."

Everyone in the room looked over at him when he came to his feet. His brother looked up with a slight lift in his eyebrows, but wouldn't meet Peter's eyes.

"May I speak with you?" Try as he might, he couldn't raise his voice above a whisper anymore. He looked as though this, his most recent failure, sat like a weight on his shoulders.

Edmund glanced lightning quick at Lucy before he nodded and levered himself to his feet. As he approached he re-sheathed a knife, and halted in the center of the room, waiting. His eyes were fixed in Peter's direction without making direct eye contact.

_What are you thinking?_ Lucy wondered from her twisted position on the Table as she watched Edmund, sunken into himself like he'd been in the beginning, follow his older brother out with nary a glance at his back.

Peter looked momentarily ill, and swallowed. He stepped away from Lucy, most likely with the intention to find somewhere he and Edmund could have privacy. As impossible a mission as that might be unless he went outside. And there they'd find Susan.

Lucy sighed.

Neither one of them saw her eyes meet those of brave Reepicheep before she nodded for him to follow. _Quiet as a mouse, Majesty_. He smiled softly in return and hopped off on soundless paws in the wake of both his kings.

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><p>Peter and Edmund walked down through the lower levels of the How, careful of whom they passed. At least Peter was. It had struck a blow to see a Narnian turn against them in the most horrific of ways. He looked at Edmund, whose eyes were fixed on the ground.<p>

He wondered what his brother felt. What Edmund _had_ felt when he'd seen her. "Let's try in here?" He gestured to an alcove not far from the chamber they'd so recently been in when everything almost went to Hell.

He supposed, for Edmund, in some ways it did. When he looked over he saw nothing in his brother's eyes. Not fear or worry. No guilt. And it drove it home just a little bit deeper how gravely he was failing.

He slid down the wall, and looked up for Edmund to join him. "Eddy?" His younger brother did so with a look in each direction away from the alcove, as though he wanted to run. "Do you think he was always going to betray us?" Peter asked on a whim. He blinked and tried to focus on his brother who was staring at him as if he hadn't understood the question. He swallowed. "Edmund?"

"Who do you mean?"

"Nikabrik," He watched his brother and waited for some sort of reaction, but didn't see one.

Edmund's eyes left Peter's and focused on the rocky wall. "Maybe," he whispered. He swallowed as well, as though trying to clear his airway.

Something he'd previously forgotten flashed back into Peter's mind. "How did you know to break the ice?" He looked up again, trying to discern some form of emotion on his brother's face, but all he saw was blank acceptance. Desolation. _You look so lost, brother_.

"Because she's made of it," he muttered, strength of his voice dying a little more with each new word.

"Edmund, I'm sorry," He'd felt it burst out of him, the apology, and knew in an instant it wasn't the right thing to say. His chest tightened and tears burned in his eyes.

Edmund's eyes narrowed an instant, but quickly smoothed back into the indifferent expression from before. "For what?" His voice never rose above a whisper.

Something gut-wrenching was pulling and clawing its way through Peter's stomach to his chest. It hurt so badly that his breath became uneven and two tears dripped from his eyes. He began fidgeting and moved in little, aborted attempts to grasp Edmund's hands. "I'm so sorry for-" He stopped because he abruptly realized he had no idea how to define his own involvement with the Jadis debacle. He had gone in with every attempt to stop Caspian and kill Her specter instantly, but something had stopped him.

Edmund didn't seem to be waiting for him to continue. He was back to staring at the rocky wall, and blinking and swallowing more often than he should've. Directly across from them was a torch mounted with a mural on the wall behind it. Tumnus with his winter-umbrella.

"I didn't intend for any of it to happen," he finished lamely, and didn't blame Edmund when he didn't react. Why _had_ he interfered with Caspian? Why, when he was so easily swayed regardless. "I thought I could stop her-"

"Stop," It was a shivery, whispered breath, but had the effect of a punch to Peter's gut. Edmund drew his knees into a cross-legged position. His breathing seemed a little irregular. "I don't care."

"It doesn't sound like it," Peter's voice gentled, but apparently not enough.

Edmund huffed and pushed out of his seat, walking straight towards the giant entrance to the How.

"Ed,"

"Don't follow me," he called back desperately and jogged off down a hallway.

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><p>TBC<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thank you SO much to my sweet reviewers :* You're awesome! And thank you to the lurkers as well :P Hope you enjoyed.

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><p>Now again<p>

He sounded like an injured animal. It broke Peter's heart to have to sit and listen, but he knew his brother. Even after a year of expanding estrangement he found it almost laughably easy to predict the repercussions it would have on Edmund should he discover his brother watching him from the bushes.

Should he discover him _now_.

So Peter kneeled among trees and low shrubbery to watch Edmund fall apart and piece himself back together, and wondered how poorly he had forgotten his brother to indirectly cause such a reaction. Peter had silent tears running down his face as he watched, and had to swallow convulsively to avoid putting sound to his guilt. His heart broke for his brother. He hadn't paid very close attention to the one person who perhaps needed his attention the most _and_ the least. Edmund had always drifted towards extremes, be it complete independence or complete dependence. Often asking the boy would do no good, because as a general rule Peter knew that whatever was said was the opposite of truth.

At his worst, right before Narnia, Edmund had needed his big brother more than ever.

At his best, time and time again, Edmund had been the one who'd been needed for his poise and contemplation, and Peter longed back to those days as he watched his brother push his feet under him. He swallowed and stood from his crouch very, very slowly. Careful not to jar twig or leaf. Feeling an inkling of his old, familiar, _protective_ self returning.

Edmund looked empty, though less lost than before. He had wiped his face and seemed slightly settled, but it jarred something fragile within to see his younger brother behave so out of character. Not in a great many years had Edmund hidden away from him, and it made Peter wonder how many consequences his actions would continue to have.

Edmund's head suddenly snapped in his direction, and Peter knew it would be only seconds until his brother figured it out. The elder uncurled the last inch and took a few steps towards the How, hoping to inspire his brother to follow even if they didn't have a clear line of sight to each other.

He made sure to keep his head down. Even though he knew he'd been discovered he hoped he hadn't yet been identified; one could only go hunting with another so many times before one learned to recognize the other's outline even through dense shrubbery. By the tread of their feet or the scent in the air.

Peter felt both warmed and unsure at the thought, and wondered if he'd made a mistake following. Did he deserve to be around his brother at all, just then? Would they both be better off with more distance? Would Edmund even want to speak to him?

In a second Peter felt his heart stop at the thought of simply allowing the distance between them to grow, but Edmund had never complained; he'd always followed Peter's lead and he wondered what right – if any – he had to reclaim what _he'd_ so willingly given away.

He looked over through the ferns, but Edmund's eyes were on his feet. His face was hidden and suddenly Peter felt the very real urge to grab hold just for a chance to meet his eyes. There was something very vital happening within his brother just then. Something Peter should have _seen_, but hadn't. "Edmund,"

His call didn't seem to faze the younger, as he very deliberately came to a halt and turned in Peter's direction.

Peter stepped clear of the shrubbery. "Did you know it was me?"

Edmund glanced down, and Peter took it as a yes.

"I'm sorry," halting briefly when Edmund's eyes almost made it all the way to his with the hint of an almost indignant expression. "Not for that."

Edmund looked very briefly puzzled before he apparantly decided it wasn't worth asking, and simply nodded at the ground.

"For eavesdropping."

Then his dark eyes came back up in surprise, and he watched Peter with unerring intensity until once again seemingly settling something with himself. "Alright."

The word stretched through the air between them until it had swallowed all Peter's thoughts and questions. He darted a look around, but found nothing worth taking note of, and in finally just turned back. "Edmund, please _talk_ to me," He took a step forward with a hand out as though begging. "Please," The more he repeated it the less he cared. "Please, tell me what's _happening_ with you."

It was the bloody wrong thing to say and he knew it the second Edmund's eyes alit on his own. "Nothing."

It was pointed, but civil. Lion forbid he showed any kind of emotion. Any kind of rage.

"Are you sure?" And Peter suddenly realized quite astutely what needed to happen, and felt surprised when Edmund didn't seem to share the epiphany. It spoke to his brother's state of mind and drove Peter to progress. "Because you seem awfully cavalier about all of this."

Edmund's eyes darted away, breathing through his nostrils. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Peter knew exactly what his brother needed at that moment. "It seems like you're…" Arms out, "_ok_, with all our failures."

Black eyes cut back to blue, and his head lowered, but instead of telling Peter what he knew he deserved he shook his head, backed away and decidedly _didn't_ look in Peter's direction.

"Edmund!"

"_What_?" he finally, _finally_ shouted.

"Tell me," Peter came closer and felt like he was almost close enough to reach out. Edmund kept trying to avoid him, and Peter kept ducking to see. He was met with a heartbreakingly lost expression, and a young man suddenly on the verge of tears. "What don't you want me to see?" He thought it might be the way his voice has softened, but whatever it was Edmund responded.

His lower lip wobbled as his eyes filled up. He still wouldn't look at Peter, but had stopped backing away as though afraid of being touched. "Ev-Everything jus' came back," His voice broke on the last word, and a ravishing anger consumed Peter, but was doused in an instant.

He surged forward, halting a hair's breadth from actually touching his brother, and stayed there until he saw Edmund's aborted attempt to reach up and grab hold in return. Then it was as if a dam broke within the elder of the two, and all he'd pent up during their year away, or buried because of fear, demanded acknowledgement once again. A brother he'd neglected after they spent so many years rebuilding and strengthening their relationship suddenly once again demanded contact, and Peter could've cried in gratitude.

"Are you alright?" he whispered into his brother's hair. The question seemed inane, but was one he'd been asked by this very person for so long that it was automatic.

And to Peter's never ending grace, and faith, and love, and trust, and everything else in Aslan, his family and the worlds in general his embrace seemed to make Edmund reconsider the situation in all seriousness. "I don't know," was his whispered answer.

It was good enough, and for some reason it made Peter huff through a small smile. His hand began to smooth out the unruly, black hair, and tears unexpectedly burned in his eyes. For too long he'd missed this part of himself. He tightened his embrace. It was the proud protector that once was the guiding force behind every decision he made.

Their mighty world stood still as everything around them woke up to take a deep breath. A breeze rattled the leaves and light caught the forests secrets like souls taking flight. "Oh, Edmund I'm so sorry," Peter breathed deep and held his brother a while longer. Something in his chest loosened and gave completely, allowing for a deeply rooted tremor to work its way out through his body and into his brother's.

Edmund never spoke, but his grip tightened for the barest of seconds in what seemed like a silent response. For a young Son of Adam such as himself, Peter felt the relief that flooded through him almost bring him to his knees. His breath hitched and two tears left cool trails down his cheeks.

It felt like coming home.

And through it all Edmund stayed exactly where he was, with his head against his brother's shoulder, one hand caressing the fabric on his brother's back. "It's alright, Pete," was the last thing whispered between them.

Peter felt that perhaps no more needed to be said.

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><p>The end - though I can expand on it if there's a demand :-)<p> 


End file.
